Safe and Sound
by BloodGutsandChocolatePudding
Summary: 'Dad, Judith's okay. Me, too. With Carol, Mika, and Lizzie. Following the tracks by the prison. Follow us. See you soon - Carl'
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, guys!**

**So this is my first ever fanfiction, and I'm pretty excited about it! But, one thing, no flames, please. Constructive criticism? Yep, go ahead. But no mean for the sake of being mean stuff - all comments like that'll be deleted, okay?**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy to story!**

_**Disclaimer: All characters and anything else like that are not mine; they belong to AMC.**_

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><p><span><em>Carl Grimes<em>

I clutch Judith to my chest, and I keep a tight grip on the bag full of her baby formula, bottles, and diapers as I stare down at the prison.

It's burning. It's full of walkers. People are firing at each other or falling down, dead, whether it's because they've been bitten or because they've been shot. I can hear their screams, their pleads for help even though they know it's too late, and I can't help but imagine my father down there, desperately searching for me and my sister.

There's no way he'll find us. We'll be gone soon - the gunshots will attract walkers, and I can't risk being seen by a herd of them. They'll tear both me and Judith apart before I can even fire a shot at them, especially if it's a big group.

I need to move, I know. I need to get Judith out of here. But I can't tear my eyes away from my destroyed home. My baby sister's birthplace. My mother's final resting place...

My eyes flicker to the part of the prison where we buried our dead, which, thankfully, doesn't seem to be too damaged yet. I hope it stays that way. I hope the Governor has a tiny bit of respect.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I whisper, rocking Judith gently as I look at the makeshift gravestones (crosses made of two pieces of wood tied together), unable to tell which belongs to my late mother. "You never even got to meet Judy."

I look down at Judith, who is being unusually quiet as she tucks her face into my chest, her tiny, baby fist clutching the sweaty, blue fabric of my shirt.

It's true - my mother never did get to meet her daughter. To be honest, I don't know if she ever found out the gender of her second child. But she already loved her more than anything, and allowed Maggie, who had little to no training, to cut her open so that the baby could live.

"And I know that I probably wasn't the best son when you were still around," I say, my eyes flicking from one grave to the next. "I didn't listen to you. I didn't respect you. I took you for granted. I guess I just never thought you'd be... gone."

My hand hovers over the gun at my hip.

Mom didn't really want me to have it, but it's saved my life on more than one occasion, and I know how to use it, probably even more so than some of the adults in the prison. I don't think Mom would object to me using it around Judith, especially now that we have nowhere to go, and that Dad isn't with us, and won't be for a while.

"And Patrick," I say, shifting Judith in my arms slightly, "you were a great guy. You were older than me, but... so much more innocent. I needed that, I guess. I needed you to remind me that I was a teenager, and not an adult. I'm sorry you died. And I'm even more sorry that I wasn't there to shoot you before you could turn. I know you never wanted to be one of... _them_."

I wish I could tell whose grave is whose. That might make these slightly shitty final goodbyes a little bit better.

I don't really know anyone else in the prison's graveyard, so I just give a slight nod to each of the wooden crosses, hoping that it'll count for _something_, at least.

Judith begins to whimper, so I hold her close, rubbing her back gently as I get my last look at the burning prison. This seems to calm her slightly, which is good because if she starts screaming she'll attract a lot of walkers. I also won't have a clue what's wrong with her or how to make her stop crying, and I don't like it when she's upset.

I tuck my sister's face into my shirt, and turn around, pulling my gun out of its holster. Then, I start to trudge through the woods, slinging the bag over my shoulder, and never once looking back.

Oh, God... I hope my dad's okay. What if he's hurt? What if he's been bitten? I want to go back to help, but I have to keep Judith safe above anything - or any_one _- else. She's more important, right? That's what Dad would say, at least...

"Don't look back, kiddo," I mumble to Judith, even though she can't understand me, as I kiss the top of her head.

We have travelled a good two hundred metres when I hear talking. I'm instantly alert, and clutching Judith even tighter in a protective manner.

It's a little girl's voice - she sounds about eight or nine. She sounds familiar, but I don't know where I could have heard her before. Maybe she was at the prison, too? I wouldn't really know - I didn't exactly pay much attention to the kids there.

Another voice pipes up. It's a man's. He sounds worried, but he's speaking in a comforting tone. He's saying how they'll be fine, and that everything'll be okay. He, like the girl, sounds familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on it, which is definitely going to annoy me if I don't find out.

I hear another voice - a girl's. She sounds about my age, and she's saying the same things that the man was saying, but it sounds a lot more reassuring coming from her. Probably because she doesn't sound as worried.

I know who it is. How could I forget that voice?

It's Lizzie. Lizzie Samuels.

The crazy girl from the prison. The mad girl who names walkers, and just thinks they're different, not dead. The insane girl who yelled at me for calling her out on her weirdness.

"_We'll be fine, Mika,_" Lizzie says. "_Just don't look back at the prison. It'll just upset you. It upsets me, too._"

"_We're not gonna be fine!_" the other girl - Mika, I'm guessing - snaps back. "_We're gonna die out here_!"

"_We're not gonna die,_" the man (whose name I still can't remember) sighs. "_C'mon, now_."

There's a rustling of leaves, a crunching of twigs on the ground, and quite a bit of muffled arguing, and then Lizzie, Mika, and Tyreese (ah, so that's who it was) are stood in front of me, all looking quite shocked, especially since there's a gun pointed at all of them.

"Name and age, go," I snap, though I know all of their names, and I can make a good guess at their ages. I want to make sure they don't lie, see.

"Tyreese," says Tyreese, his hands up. "Thirty-eight."

I look over at Mika, who is pale and shaking. She hasn't put her hands up like Tyreese, but that's probably because she's frozen in place, and doesn't seem to be able to move.

"I won't shoot," I tell her, trying to keep my voice calm, but firm. "Just tell me your name and your age."

"M-Mika," she stammers, "and I'm n-nine."

I nod, before I look over at Lizzie, who is glaring at me, her hands fisted at her sides, probably because I just aimed a gun at her little sister's head. I don't blame her - if anyone pointed a gun (or any weapon, for that matter) at _my _sister, I'd have killed them by now, no matter who they were.

"Lizzie," she says, slipping her hand into Mika's. "I'm thirteen. Nearly fourteen."

"Mm," I say, before aiming at Tyreese again. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"A lot," he replies, seeming a lot calmer than he was a few seconds ago, because he's been asked these questions before, so he knows that I was at the prison, too. Or maybe he actually recognises me. Now that I think about it, it's probably the latter.

"Mika?" I ask, looking at her.

"A couple," the young girl answers. "I mean, I've tried. I-I'm not the best shot, though."

"And I haven't killed any," Lizzie tells me, rubbing circles into Mika's hand with her thumb. "It's not right."

"You're so stupid, Lizzie," Mika says, yanking her hand away from the older girl.

"How many people have you killed?" I ask Tyreese. "Including people from... earlier."

"Quite a few," he replies. "I didn't really keep count when I was down there."

"None," says Mika when I look at her. "I could never do that."

"Two," Lizzie tells me, looking down at her feet. "A man, then a woman. I didn't mean to shoot them in their heads. But I did, and now they're dead. Happy?"

"I am," I tell her, lowering my gun a little bit, but not too much that I can't shoot at a moment's notice.

Lizzie walks over to Mika, who is still shaking slightly. She wraps her arm around her sister's shoulders, and pulls her out of earshot. Then, she starts to whisper to her.

"You come here after the prison went down?" I ask Tyreese.

He nods. "Yeah. The two people that Lizzie mentioned were shooting at me. Lizzie got them both between the eyes, and then she and Mika ran off. They said they needed to find Judith." He gestures to my sister, who is cuddled up to me. "But she wasn't in her baby-carrier when we found it. We thought she was dead - it was covered in blood -, and Lizzie was pretty upset. She kept saying that it was her fault, but I don't know why. Anyway, then we came here. We've just been walking around, really, hoping that we would find someone from the prison. And I guess we did."

"Guess you did," I say, looking down at my sister. "Uh, the blood was mine, by the way."

I roll down my left sleeve, and show him the large, jagged cut on my forearm.

"How'd you-?"

"Some guy cut me," I tell him. "Just after the Governor got in. I don't know what he thought he was gonna do. I mean, he saw my gun."

"What did you do to him?" Tyreese questions.

"Well, I had Judith," I say, "and the knife grazed her leg. What do you think I did?"

I look down at the ground, and I'm silent for a few minutes - I can't stop thinking about everyone I left behind at the prison. Half of them are probably dead by now. Oh, God...

"I need to find my dad," I say finally. "He's down there by himself. You don't know what he was like after my mom died. If he thinks me and Judy are gone, too... he'll lose his mind."

"You can't go back down there!" cries Tyreese. "Are you crazy?"

"I can't just leave him!" I exclaim. "Look, if you take Judith, I can-"

"No, Carl," Tyreese says firmly, and it has a sense of finality about it that stops me from arguing back. "I'll go back for him. You stay here with Lizzie, Mika, and Judith."

"Are you sure?" I ask, glancing over at the two girls not far from us.

"I'm sure," he says. "Look after them, okay? They saved my life."

"I can do that," I say. "Don't worry about them. Or Judith. Or me. We'll be fine."

"Good," Tyreese smiles as we walk towards Lizzie and Mika. "I'm going back to the prison."

"What?!" yelps Mika, and I quickly shush her - the last thing we need is for a walker to hear us. "You're leaving us?"

"Not for long," Tyreese assures her, but how true his statement is, I'm not sure. "I just need to find Carl's dad, okay? And Carl's promised that he'll look after you until I come back."

Mika glances up at me, a nervous look on her face.

"I'm a good shot," I tell her. "Haven't missed in ages."

Lizzie turns to me, twisting a lock of her honey-coloured hair around her index finger. She's biting the inside of her cheek, and her free hand is hovering over the knife in her pocket.

"I'll keep you safe. I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

**It was really, really, _really _fun to write Carl from Lizzie's point of view, and I don't even know why. It just was. Also Lizzie's views on the walkers, for obvious reasons.**

**Anyway, like I said before, I will not accept flames - they _will _be deleted, okay?**

_**Disclaimer: All characters belong to AMC. Believe me, if they belonged to me, Lizzie and Carl would have been a thing... and a certain event that took place in 'The Grove' would not have happened.**_

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><p><em><span>Lizzie Samuels<span>_

"Mika, I'm gonna need you to hold Judith," Carl tells my sister, handing her _his _sister as Tyreese runs off, his hammer, and his gun, for that matter, at the ready. "Lizzie, have you got a gun?"

I nod, pulling said gun out of my pocket. I shot two people with it a few minutes ago... I wonder what they were like before all of this happened? Did they have jobs? Kids? Either way, they're dead now, and it's my fault.

"You're on watch with me," Carl says, pressing his back to mine, and raising his gun.

The three of us are quiet for a minute, the silence only being broken by an occasional gurgle or giggle from Judith, who seems to have discovered that she has feet, and is quite pleased about it.

"Tyreese said you shot two people between the eyes," Carl says, nudging me gently with his elbow.

"Not the man," I tell him. "I shot him in the side of his head. I got the woman between the eyes, though. D'you think I did the right thing? I mean, they're not gonna come back now..."

"Tyreese'd be dead if you hadn't," Carl sighs. "Anyway, they'd be dead either way."

"No," I say. "If I hadn't hit their heads, they'd have come back. They'd just be... different."

"No, they'd be dead," snaps Carl, and I can hear him getting impatient with me. "As dead as they'd be if you'd shot them before all this shit-" Mika gasps at his language, and attempts to cover Judith's ears, "-went down."

I ignore him, and return my attention to scanning the area we're in for potential threats. My hands are shaking around my gun, but I'm not exactly sure why. It's probably something to do with the fact that Carl's once again telling me that I'm wrong about the walkers, even though I know I'm right.

Carl's the one who's wrong; I'm the only one who gets it, I think. He just doesn't understand the walkers, like Mika. He doesn't get that they're still who they once were, just a little different. He'll understand soon enough, though - I'll show him, I swear.

"Carl!" hisses Mika, hurrying towards Carl and I, clutching Judith. "I heard something over there!"

"It's fine," Carl tells her, ruffling her hair gently, just like I've seen him do to Judith before. "Probably just a walker. Be quiet, and it won't hear us. If it gets too close, I'll kill it."

"Don't," I snap. "If it gets close, we'll run."

"Don't be stupid, Lizzie," Mika says, using her free hand to grip the sleeve of my shirt. "Carl knows more about walkers than us."

"No, he doesn't," I tell her, crossing my arms.

"He does, actually," Carl says, his back still to mine. "You gonna stop talking about me like I'm not here?"

I roll my eyes, before glaring at the ground beneath my feet. I kick at the dirt, grinding my teeth, and trying to stop myself from turning around, and punching Carl in the jaw, because I know he'll just hit me back, and, knowing him, he'll hit me back _a lot _harder.

My sister looks nervous, and she keeps glancing around. She's scared, I know, and I can understand why. I mean, we _are _out in the middle of nowhere, in an apocalypse, with only two guns, maybe two knives - that is, if Carl has one, too -, a baby who cries _very _loudly, and an aggressive, slightly psychopathic (from what I saw - and _heard_ - at the prison), fourteen year old boy.

"Carl, seriously, I can hear something," squeaks Mika, grabbing Carl's wrist with her free hand.

Carl sighs, lowering his gun slightly. "Want me to take a look?"

Mika nods, shifting Judith in her arms.

Carl kisses his sister's little hand, tips his hat forwards on his head, raises his gun, and walks off.

"Mika, give me Judith," I say, once Carl's out of sight. "Take my gun. I can't shoot them; you can."

"I can't-" Mika begins as I take Judith from her.

"Neither can I!" I say. "Please?"

Of course, I'd rather us not have to shoot them at all, but I'm not stupid, contrary to Mika's beliefs, and I know they can be dangerous when they're hungry, but I also know that, somewhere, inside them, they're still who they were before, as Carl so articulately put it it, 'all this shit went down'. So it's not right to kill them. It'd be like... if I killed Carol. Or Mika. I mean, killing one of those two would be a lot worse, but still...

"Fine," sighs Mika, taking my gun from me, and imitating the stance Carl was in a second ago.

I bounce Judith slightly, hoping that she won't start crying, because, if she does, she'll attract walkers, and then we'll have to kill them, and I don't want Mika to have to do that. And, even if we don't kill them, we'll have to run, and then Carl will be upset because he'll never see his father again.

"Hey, Judy," I whisper, alternating between bouncing and rocking her.

I don't know much about babies, but I've seen Beth do this to Judith before. I'm guessing she likes it (more like hoping), because she hasn't started crying yet.

"Your brother'll be back soon," I say quietly, "and then you can play with him instead."

Does Carl even play with her? I mean, I know he loves her more than anything, but is he too busy killing off walkers to spend time with his baby sister? I wouldn't be surprised...

"Lizzie!" hisses Mika, nudging me with her elbow, knocking Judith slightly, making the small girl start to whimper.

"No, Judy!" I whisper to her, trying desperately to stop her from crying, but it's too late.

"Lizzie!" cries Mika, just as Judith starts screaming at the top of her lungs. "Walkers!"

I glance over my shoulder, and, sure enough, there are two, decaying walkers stumbling towards us. They're growling, so I'm guessing they're hungry, and trying to make friends is out of the question.

"They're gonna hear her!" Mika says, raising her gun, making me turn back to Judith, not wanting to see my sister kill two people. Not like I had to. "Make her stop, Lizzie!"

"I'm trying!" I snap.

Mika fires, and the gunshot rings in my ears. I don't think she actually hit either of the walkers, and Judith's just crying louder now. Great...

"Lizzie..." whimpers Mika, her voice shaking.

I look down at Judith. She needs to stop screaming. Like, now. And I can't shut her up. Maybe I can... no, Carl would kill me. But what choice do I have really?

I slam my hand over Carl's sister's mouth, which muffles her sobs. My hand looks huge compared to hers, which she has wrapped around my index finger, trying to pull it off her face. Her eyes are exactly the same shade of blue as her brother's, but why I'm noticing this now, I don't know.

"_Lizzie... doing? Walkers... Judith! Lizzie... stop... Carol? Carol!_" Mika's voice is distant, but I manage to catch my adoptive mother's name, which, of course, makes me spin around.

I see Carol driving her knife into the female walker's head. Then, I see her spin, and sink the blade into the male's skull. It makes me wince, and I have to look away, but I know that she had to. She had to kill them. Sometimes, you have to. But not always.

"Girls..." says Carol breathlessly.

"Carol!" grins Mika, throwing her arms around the woman's middle, not caring that she just killed two people... or that her hands are covered in black-ish, walker blood.

"Are you two okay?" Carol asks, pulling away from Mika, and grabbing her chin, examining her face for any cuts or bruises. Or bites, for that matter.

"We're good," I tell her, Judith still wailing in my arms. "We got out with Tyreese, but he went back to find Carl's dad."

"Carl?" asks Carol, hurrying over to me, and taking Judith from me. "He's with you, too? Where is he?"

"I heard something," Mika says, looking down at her feet. "He went to check it out."

"Oh, God..." Carol mutters. "He's not-?"

"Lizzie! Mika!" Carl yells as he crashes through the trees, and sprints over to us, his gun at the ready. "I heard the gunshot! I thought- Carol?"

"Oh, thank God," smiles Carol, pulling the boy into a one-armed hug. "I thought you'd been... it doesn't matter. You're okay, though, right?"

"Fine," Carl tells her. "But we have to go. Now."

"Why?" I ask him.

"There's a herd. It's a big one, too," Carl tells me. "It's heading for the prison, but it's gonna come across us if we don't leave. I've only got my gun and a knife, and I don't think that's gonna do much to a herd that big."

"How many?" Carol asks.

"I don't know," replies Carl, "but, if I had to guess, I'd say about... seventy? Maybe eighty?"

Carol sighs, sticks her knife back in her pocket, and pulls out a small gun instead. "Let's go."

"What about Tyreese?" Mika asks, slipping her hand into mine. "And Mr Grimes?"

"We could leave a sign?" Carl suggests, gripping the hilt of his knife. Does he do that when he's nervous? Because I do that when I'm nervous, too, I think.

"I don't think we'll have enough time," Carol says. "How about we get out of here, and come back when the herd's gone?"

"It'll be like coming back to a graveyard," says Carl. "No, we're gonna have to leave a sign. Carve it in a tree, or something."

"Alright," sighs Carol. "Lizzie, you know how to use a knife, will you-?"

"I'll do it," Carl offers, pulling out his own knife. "You guys go ahead. I'll catch up."

"I'm not leaving you," Carol tells him.

"Get Judy out," snaps Carl, glaring at her. I don't think he meant to be so aggressive, but I get it - I get grumpy when I'm stressed out, too. "Lizzie can stay with me. She's a good shot from what I've heard. You get my sister and Mika out of here, and we'll catch up, okay?"

"Carl-" begins Carol, but Carl cuts her off.

"Go!" he yells.

Mika hurries over to me, and hands me back my gun. Then, she runs back over to Carol, only glancing back at us once.

"Fine," huffs Carol, shifting Judith, taking Mika's hand, and starting to walk away from us. "We'll go in a straight line. We'll stop in ten minutes; give you two time to catch up."

"Got it," Carl calls after her, before walking over to a tree with a thick trunk, and digging his knife into the bark.

"What are you gonna write?" I ask him.

_'Dad, Judith's okay. Me, too. With Carol, Mika, and Lizzie. Following the tracks by the prison. Follow us. See you soon - Carl_' he carves into the tree, grinding his teeth together as he does so.

"There," Carl says, brushing away the excess bark, and smirking slightly at his handiwork. "Just like Shakespeare, right?"

"Yeah, totally," I grin. "Now, come on. We'd better find my sister."

"And mine," Carl says, pulling out his gun again. "And Carol, too, I guess."

"Are you okay, by the way?" I ask him as we start to walk. "Does your arm hurt?"

"Eh, I've had worse," replies Carl, glancing down at his forearm. Blood is staining the sleeve of his blue shirt red. "What about you? You get hurt at all?"

"Not really," I say. "A bullet almost hit my leg, but, other than that, I'm fine."

"This is bullshit," Carl mutters.

"What is?" I ask him.

"The Governor destroying everything we had at the prison," replies Carl. "He almost killed my sister, almost killed me, might've killed my dad..."

"Your dad'll be okay," I say, though I don't really believe it myself.

"I hope so," he sighs. "Anyway, the Governor's just a complete-"

"Shitface?" I offer, grinning slightly, knowing that, if my mom was here, she'd kill me for using language like that... and Mika, too, probably.

"I was gonna say 'asshole', but that works, too."


End file.
